


FiKi Week 2015

by lostunderthemountain



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives except Thorin, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Female Kíli, FiKi Week, fem!Kili
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostunderthemountain/pseuds/lostunderthemountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My contributions to the FíKí Week hosted by gatheringfiki on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ered Luin/Beginnings

Kíli attended her first Durin’s Day festival when she was thirty-four.

She’d only recently begun to take a legitimate part in the earlier, more serious event in the temple - but the festival (an all night party) was something Kíli had never experienced before, mostly because she was ‘too young’ if you listened to Mama and Fee and Uncle Thorin and Missus Surthi and everyone. Fíli had been going to them for ages, but he was their uncle’s heir, so he probably had a lot less fun. But this year the young princess was finally old enough to attended. Missus Surthi had made her a new dress of blue silk especially and Mister Bofur had made her new boots while her Mama put special braids in her hair.

Kíli was excited. There was going to be music and dancing and the twirling, cinnamony, surgery sticks that were her favourite dessert. At least, Uncle Thorin had promised that they’d be there and Uncle Thorin never broke a promise - not to Kíli. The little princess bounced down the road after her mother to the feasting hall, and she could already hear the music pouring from the open doors.

“I want you to behave now khahith, you can’t make your uncle look bad.” Dís told her youngest carefully, who nodded her head eagerly. When the pair entered the hall, they made a beeline for the head table, where Thorin and Fíli were sat.

“Fee!” Kíli cried out, nearly tripping over her own feet as she hurried to sit in her brother’s chair. The pair hadn’t seen each other since that morning in the temple, “Fee, have you missed me? I’ve missed you! And look! Mister Bofur made me new shoes do you like them? And Mama did my braids and Missus Surthi did my dress and and…”

The blonde prince chuckled and began whispering to her, making her giggle and eventually the pair ran off, stealing food and dancing in-between people’s legs - making their mother laugh and their uncle alternatively smile and sigh.


	2. Under the Stars

The music a a bit more refined in Dale than it was in Erebor, but that was probably of Lady Tauriel’s influence. At least, that was Fíli’s opinion.

The young King was stood with Bard and Legolas (who was there representing his father) talking about Dale’s new trade link with Rohan and the possibility of Erebor gaining one as well, when a boom of laughter came from the balcony. The two Kings and the prince turned and saw Kíli, Tauriel, Sigrid and Tilda grouped together, whispering.

“Should we be shaking in our boots?” Bard asked wryly, drawing an inelegant snort from the elf prince. Fíli smirked.

“If you’ll excuse me.” He nodded at the pair before making his way over to the four women. The Dalish princesses and Lady Tauriel all curtsied to him before hurrying away over to Bard and Legolas.

“Did you have to scare them away?” Kíli asked, but she smiled at him lovingly. Fíli ducked his head sheepishly.

“Can you blame me?” He asked, “I just wanted to spend time with you.” The dwarf lord wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, “What were you talking about?”

“Oh, just the stars,” The princess gestured up, “They were saying that they rarely saw stars before the Quest, and now they’re always there…and they’re different than ours…”

Fíli looked up and his smile faded slightly.

“I suppose we should have known that…” He mused, pulling her close.


	3. Stone Giants

Kíli’s heart pounded in her throat as she frantically scrambled over the rocks to where the giant had fallen. Her brother had been on that giant he might be - but he couldn’t be - she wouldn’t let him be - When she rounded the corner she felt all the air be knocked out of her as she saw Fíli being helped up and dusted down by Dwalin, her heart sinking back down to her chest in relief.


	4. Music

Fíli was a good King. Every dwarf in Erebor knew that (even the lords, though they preferred to focus on his few shortcomings). Fíli was such a good King, that he personally led a troop of dwarves to check out a rumoured orc nest south of Erebor and Dale.

Not many of the troop made it back alive.

Kíli charged Bombur and Fulla with their children’s care and ordered the servants to draw a bath before relieving them of their duties for the night. She even sent the guards outside the door to the entrance of the royal wing instead. When Fíli finally arrived at their rooms, his eyes shining, Kíli shushed him gently as she stripped him of all his armour and clothing before leading leading up to their bathing room and easing him into the bath.

Then she herself stripped down to her shift and joined him (tying the shift around her waist) in the thigh high water. Fíli didn’t seem to take much notice of his surrounding as Kïli scrubbed him down and gently washed out the mess from his hair. Usually she’d be insulted, but this wasn’t usual.

Eventually, Kíli coaxed him out of the cooled bathwater, dried him off and helped him into some a soft shirt and a pair of sleep pants from back in Ered Luin whilst pulling her own shift back down. Then she led him back downstairs and onto their bed, where she pulled his head to her chest.

“Kee…” the dwarf finally croaked, trying to pull away.

“Shh,” she repeated, running a hand over his damp hair as she began to sing the song their mother always sang:

“ _Sing me a song, of a lass that is gone, say could that lass, be I?_ ”


	5. Alternate Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Victorian & Not Related AU

Fíli sighed and looked around the grand ballroom. His Uncle - the Laird of Erebor - had insisted that he find a young wife by the end of the season, as neither of them were getting any younger.

They had to be younger than him (of course), they had to be intelligent (the Lady of Erebor was always a vital part of running the land), they had to not be too clingy and they had to be beautiful. The only problem was, they were all too young, could never keep up with the flow of conversation and many (Miss Tauriel of Greenwood in particular) clung to him. And Fíli, personally, didn’t find any of them overly attractive.

He sighed again. What would his uncle say if he didn’t at least court a woman before the end of the season?

“Forgive me, my lord, but I highly doubt that it is solely the common people’s fault for their living conditions.” A voice caught his attention. He turned to see a young woman dressed in a midnight blue coloured dress with her dark brown hair pulled up into an elaborate coffiure, as smirk on her face. She was astonishingly beautiful (if one ignored the curls hanging down around her face, clearly having fallen out of their pins). As the lord huffed and puffed, Fíli made his way into the crowd and stood next to Bard Girionson (a friend), who was looking at the woman with a fond smile on his face.

“Would you care to introduce me?” He asked, nodding over to her. Bard raised an eyebrow, then grinned smugly.

“Sister!” He called over, “If you would care to stop giving the lords premature heart attacks, it would be my honour to introduce you to Sir Fíli, heir of the Erebor Lairdship.”


	6. Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally for the FeelsforFili mini contest and therefore shouldn’t count as a part of the Wolf of Durin's Line universe.

_“The King is dead – Long Live the King!”_

Kíli marches down the corridor, the shout ringing in her ears. She needs to find her brother, quickly. She finds him standing outside their room. Their old room now. She’ll have to organise the change over later, right now there’s something more important she has to take care of. Fíli turns at the sound of her footsteps against the stone. The haunted, wild look in his eyes has her pulling him out of public view and into her arms. Then the dam he’s carefully built is absolutely destroyed.

His harsh sobs echo around the room and hot tears soak through the shoulder of her dress as they both sink to the floor. Kíli rubs his back and kisses his temple, offering as much comfort as she can. Eventually, Fíli pulls away. His eyes are now rimmed with red but the wild look seems to be gone.

“He gave me this.” Her brother holds up the King’s ring, which had been Thorin’s ever since Azanulbizar. Now it’s Fíli’s, “He shoved it into my hand and then…” As his voice begins to give away again, Kíli takes the ring and slides it onto his left middle finger, removing the Heir’s ring from his right one as she does.

“We’ll have to give this to Frerin.” Is all she can say, “And maybe get this one resized…?” Or just make a new one. Fíli is looking at the ring as though a warg has attached itself to his finger, not a great start for a king. A knock on the door has them stumbling to their feet; Fíli quickly wiping his eyes and Kíli grabbing a wrap to hide the damp patch on her shoulder. Dwalin steps into the room hesitantly, bowing low when he sees them both.

“The lords are ready to meet with you – yer Graces.” Kíli takes her brother’s hand, gently encouraging him to make to long walk (that feels even longer now) to the informal throne room. If the new king is shaking as he addresses the lords for the first time – nobody is stupid enough to mention it.

* * *

Two months seem to fly past but also drag. Fíli is content to disappear whenever he’s not needed and nobody - not even Kíli - knows where he is. It causes the lords to whisper about how he’s not ready. Balin tells her one night during their nightly meetings in the parlour of the King’s rooms.

“They say that Dáin should take the throne instead.” The elder says quietly, pouring them both more wine.

“Dáin wouldn’t,” Kíli points out, “But _Stonehelm_ might.”

“Aye.” Balin agrees, thoughts of Dáin’s son making the mood even grimmer.

“Fíli will be a good King.” The woman insists, glancing over at the door leading to their new room.

“Especially with you as his Queen.”

* * *

On the day of their coronation, Kíli is being laced into her new dress when Fíli comes into the parlour. He’s wearing a long blue robe that had a large fur collar reminiscent of the one on Thorin’s coat, a black tunic and sharovary as well as a silvered chest plate that’s been polished ‘til it shines.

“You look beautiful.” He tells her quietly after the maids have been dismissed. Kíli cups his cheek, trying her best to be comforting.

“You look like a king.” She replies, fingers curling around his ear. Grief clouds over Fíli’s face, a sight that the woman has come all to familiar with nowadays.

“I can’t be king.” He confesses, “I can’t be like Thorin…I doubt I can lead men into battle, I won’t be able to control the lords.”

“Yes you will.” Kíli insists, “It’s not about being like Thorin. This is your reign Fee. Be yourself and the people will love you for it.” She ducks her head to catch his eye, “And I’ll be right beside you.”

Fíli smiles brightly.

“I’m glad for that atamanel.”

* * *

Fíli kneels before the throne (the large one that has the Arkenstone atop it) listening to the chanting that echoes around the hall. The High Priest is asking him questions that have an obvious answer. The crown suddenly settles on his brow…and it doesn’t feel as heavy as he’d been fearing. When he stands and turns around he sees his people (and they truly are his people now) cheering (because Durin’s line remains unbroken), he sees Thranduil acting as though all of this is completely beneath me and Bard’s family cheering along with the rest; Tilda’s actually jumping up and down in excitement. And Kíli’s stood there, smiling at him as though he’s the greatest thing she’s ever seen. And for now (if only now) he feels confident in himself. The court factions may be moving against him (not that they’d admit it) and rumours of dark forces are springing up again, but for now he’s at peace with himself.

_“All hail Fíli, son of Dís daughter of Thrain: the King Under the Mountain!”_


	7. Two Hundred Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very, very short

Kíli hummed an old tune to herself as she placed her crown atop her head, feeling much older.

The tap, tap, tap of wood on stone caught her attention and she turned to see Fíli walking towards her, leaning heavily on his cane (used because of a wound sustained during the Battle of Dale). The King’s hair was steadily turning from gold to silver, but Kíli still loved him the same.

“Are you ready?” He asked, his voice almost cracking.

“Aye,” She said, standing up and ignoring her knees aching slightly, “Let’s give them something to talk about again.”


End file.
